


MVP

by MFLuder



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: American Football, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sports, Super Bowl LII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MFLuder/pseuds/MFLuder
Summary: There's a game, there's beer, there's academy reminiscing, and there's a lapful of Danny. (Hooray sports; do the thing, win the points!)





	MVP

**Author's Note:**

> I have feels about sports. (I side with Steve.) I also have feels about Danny and Steve so, voila, nearly 2000 words of Super Bowl fic. How did my first posted H50 fic end up being sports-related, what is this fandom doing to me.
> 
> Unbetaed.
> 
> Thanks to the tumblr users who responded to my ask about Steve and Danny's sports teams.

Five o’clock sharp they’re sitting down on Steve’s couch, beers in hand, a small spread of snacks and chicken wings on the coffee table to watch the final pre-game commentary. Danny’s wearing an old and obviously well loved Jets t-shirt, even though they never even made it to the playoffs this year and their last game was a bad loss to the Patriots.

“I can’t believe you are cheering for the Patriots.”

“Hey, you know I think Brady’s the best QB this side of the century.”

“Yeah, I know all about your man crush on good ole’ Tom.”

Steve looks sideways at him. “It’s not a ‘man crush’ if you’re gay.” He shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Man crush,” Danny reiterates.

They settle in to wait for the kick off. In the past, if they haven’t been working a case, it’s been a team thing, but Chin and Kono are gone and Rey and the others do their own thing or just don’t care about football.

“Oakland or Eagles fans worse, you think?” Danny asks, sometime in the second quarter.

Steve considers. “Oakland fans have a reputation for violence but it’s overblown. Eagles, I think. You hear what they did to that ninety-nine-year-old lady who’s a Vikings fan? That’s a dick move. Don’t be mean to old ladies who have watched more Super Bowls than you. And the police had to grease street lamps in Philly? Why not just set fire to cars like you’re a soccer fan while you’re at it?”

“Yeah, well, I bet you know all about greased poles,” Danny mutters.

Steve chokes out a laugh. “I can’t – is that a double entendre?”

“Double entendre, my ass. I know what you Navy plebes do up at Annapolis.”

Steve’s eyebrows rise as he takes a drink of beer. “You do, do you?”

“I’ve read up on you. And I have to say, considering the military operated under DADT for seventeen years, and you know, just outright banned it before then, the Navy in particular has some really gay rituals.”

Steve snorts. “You have no idea.”

The Patriots score a first down and he’s momentarily distracted.

“So, who won your year?”

“Hmm?” Steve reaches for a celery stick.

“Herndon. Who conquered it? It had to be you, right? I can’t imagine you letting anyone else get to the top of a slippery monument in the name of ‘teamwork’.” Danny does air quotes when he says the word teamwork.

Steve grins around the vegetable. “I nearly did. A last minute contender beat me out."

Danny’s eyes widen. He holds up a hand to his heart like he’s about to faint in shock. “Steven J McGarrett not being top of his class in something?”

Steve nods. “Yup. A pretty plebe with everything to prove used her boobs to exert power over me and well, she made it.”

“I thought mine were the only boobs you appreciated. I’m upset, babe.”

He’s got a bit of buffalo sauce at the corner of his mouth and it’s distracting Steve.

They’re both distracted a moment later when Brady misses a pass, fingers just grazing the ball before it goes out of bounds.

“Yes!” hisses Danny in excitement.

A commercial break comes on and Danny turns back to him. “So, this girl. That before you came out?”

“Obviously. DADT, remember? But also, when I say ‘used her boobs,’ I mean it literally. Cath had abs of steel and was a 32D or something back then. Tiny, but fierce, and I nearly smothered in them that day before losing my grip. She managed to knee me in the gut, too, before using my back as a step up to place the hat on the top.”

He thinks back to that moment, so many years before, and he’s still proud of Cath pulling that over on him. He hadn’t really paid much attention to her before then, but after the event she’d come over to shake his hand and apologize for fighting dirty but she really wanted those shoulder boards. He’d laughed and said something about all being fair in love and Herndon and they’d been instant friends after that.

“Wait, wait,” Danny says, holding up a hand. “Cath? You mean Catherine? The woman I assumed was your ex when I first met her?”

“That’s her.”

“Damn. I always knew she was better than you, but that story explains so much.”

Danny laughs and Steve pokes him in the side out of spite. The game has returned, but he’s still focused on the lingering sauce. He reaches out a thumb, swiping it away and then sucking it off, watching Danny’s eyes turn a darker shade of blue.

“You had a little something,” he explains, deliberately making an obscene noise when he pulls his thumb out of his mouth.

Danny gazes at him for another moment, but a failed first down brings his attention back to the screen and he just ends up resting one hand on Steve’s thigh, the other loosely clutching his beer.

When the Eagles surround and block Gronk with seconds remaining and the game is called, Danny leaps to his feet from the couch, fanatically yelling at the television, then turning his attention to Steve, “take that, Brady man crush!” then back to the TV again.

Steve slumps back against the couch, vaguely peeved, but at the end of the day, Brady’s still the best QB in history and it’s not really his team that lost. He’s content to let Danny be exuberant, even if it is somewhat at his expense. He grins lazily as Danny attempts his own weird form of a touchdown dance, in the six inches of space he has between the couch and the coffee table where their empty beer bottles have collected.

After about a minute of this, while the green and white confetti continues to rain down on the field, Danny finally calms down enough to turn to him, with a big smile and his face and an excited gleam to his eye. He uses his foot to gently shove the table a little further from the couch and Steve raises an eyebrow at him, curious.

“You want to know the best part of this win, babe?” Danny says.

“Enlighten me,” Steve drawls, enjoying the way Danny slicks back his hair like now that the celebration is over he can’t stand to have one strand out of place.

Suddenly, while his legs are still stretched out on the table, he finds himself with a lapful of Jersey zeal. The guy really takes his sports seriously.

Danny’s hands find his hair, running over the buzzed strands in a way that makes Steve tilt his head, crack an even lazier smile, and want to purr. “The best part is that, because my team won, I’m gonna let you fuck me.”

He raises his hands to creep under the soft Jets tee. Danny’s skin feels even softer; belly hair brushing against his fingers, and Steve loves the way Danny’s muscles tense under his hands. He grips one hand in the back of the shirt and uses the other to slide Danny closer until he’s taller than Steve and he is the one looking up for once.

“Oh, you’re going to _let me_ , are you?” he teases, palming at his partner’s rapidly hardening cock.

“Yeah, let you,” Danny reiterates, still smug, as if he’s being magnanimous. His pupils, though, are fast darkening and the blue shrinks to a small ring as Steve pulls him in for a kiss. He tastes like beer and chicken wing sauce but Steve chases that all away with slow licks and soft lips.

They make out for a while, happy to stay on the couch and let hands stray without being in a rush, too focused to notice when the Lombardi trophy is passed around or when Foles is made MVP.

Eventually Danny begins to get a little impatient, seeking friction against Steve’s abs and it feels great, but it’d feel better in a bed, so he reaches forward to click off the television just as the infomercials about the recording of Super Bowl 52 and commemorative t-shirts begin. He lowers his legs and then with one great heave stands up, wrapping Danny’s legs around his waist. Danny clings to him and Steve can tell he’s about to open his mouth to rant, so he just grabs Danny’s delightfully round ass and says, “Don’t say a word, you love it when I do this,” as he makes his way up the stairs.

Danny still mutters something about “manhandling me like I’m a child” but it’s all for show and Steve just smiles into their kisses, wondering what exactly he did right along the way to get to have this.

He dumps Danny on the bed, crawling after him after a quick strip of his clothing. They breathe in each other’s space for a moment before Steve drops his mouth to Danny’s neck, leaving little nips in between each word: “I think you said something about me fucking you?”

Danny laughs, full and bright, and they’re off, tugging and wrestling with each other because Danny’s a pushy bottom but Steve was promised topping.

When they come back down, both now slightly sweaty, Danny’s hair completely ruined for the night, Steve can’t help but needle him some more.

“So, the next big thing is hockey, right? I think you said you cheer for the Celts?”

He lets out a surprised yelp when a pillow smacks him full on in the face.

He shoves it off, breathless with laughter to face Danny’s faux stern face. “You, mister,” Danny begins, stabbing a pointy finger into his breastbone.

“Commander,” Steve interrupts, putting a hand up under the finger to avoid a bruise. He grabs Danny’s hand on the next attempted stab, tangling their fingers together.

Danny continues on despite this. “You think you are very funny. You think you’re going to get me riled up with outrage, as though I don’t know _you_ know the difference between hockey and basketball even if you suck at basketball and fail to understand the beauty that is a good hockey fight. Well, it’s not gonna work.”

Of course, it’s worked perfectly because there’s more red on Danny’s cheeks than there was a minute ago and he’s leaning up on an elbow, the better to poke at Steve. Steve uses the leverage he has from their hands being intertwined and pulls Danny half on top of him so they can sleep. He noses at Danny’s hair, breathing in the scent of cheap shampoo and hair gel and the uniquely Danny smell that lies underneath it all. Work will be there fast and early, but it’s another day he get to work with his partner – in crime, law enforcement, the restaurant business, and life.

Just as he senses Danny’s about to doze off, he asks, “So, how many days until spring training begins?”

“Fuck you,” is the response and Steve chuckles himself to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m still new to canon and I just liked the idea of Steve and Cath knowing each other in the academy, so forgive me if the show has given major backstory to Steve and Cath’s first meeting anytime after season 1.
> 
> Read about what happened to [99 year old Millie here](http://www.citypages.com/news/we-found-the-worst-people-on-earth-video/470545663). Read about [Herndon here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herndon_Monument) (and if you think this is wild, oh boy...). 
> 
> Follow and chat with me [on tumblr](http://mf-luder-xf.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
